


Saviour

by RichieIsABastardMan



Category: Barry (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-02 18:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20815127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichieIsABastardMan/pseuds/RichieIsABastardMan
Summary: After a hit gone wrong, Barry walks the streets looking for help. He manages to find it (and much more) in the strangest of places (Fluff/Sexy stuff?).





	Saviour

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set somewhere in the middle of season 2 (no spoilers as far as I can see!). Warnings: Body Injury, Blood, Stitches, Swearing, Sexual Situations (not smut). You can also find me on tumblr, where I will give more updates on my fics and also post everything first: https://richieisabastardman.tumblr.com/

Barry’s experience with excruciating pain was vast. A gun wound here, and a stab wound there, were all realities of Barry’s past. However, as he walked down various empty LA streets clutching his arm (which was bleeding profusely) he really thought he may die. Worse than that, he was much more scared by the thought of death than he ever thought he would be. Blood continued to drip down his arm, forming a trail behind him as he continued walking. A hit gone wrong. That had been happening to him a lot recently, he thought. He considered that he may be getting too old for this work. In contrast, he also considered that he may be beginning to get used to normality. The last couple of months of dating Sally and going to his acting class had left him feeling normal. It was comfortable.

That’s why when Fuches had called him and told him there was an opportunity to make some cash, he had expected to hang up the phone or at least give Fuches an earful before he blocked him. Instead he had agreed. He had told Sally he couldn’t help her run lines because he was meeting an old friend. He was also quick to get back into routine, putting on a black hoodie and grabbing his guns. He didn’t even care how much the job was going to pay.

Barry stopped walking, planting himself in the middle of the road. He wasn’t sure where he was, but he knew he was too far from home to make it back on foot. He shut his eyes, swaying slightly with the cool breeze that blew past him. It was a quiet night, and he could hear the faint sound of cars not too far away. He considered calling an uber before he remembered his phone was broken, smashed by the man he eventually managed to kill. Realising he had no other ways to get home, he considered laying on the sidewalk and bleeding out slowly.

Just as Barry began to lower himself to the ground, the deafening sound of a helicopter hovered above him. He raised his uninjured arm to shield his eyes from its light. As it passed, he lowered his arm, his gaze fixating on what the remaining light of the aircraft illuminated. A crucifix stood tall on top of an old building. Observing the stain glass windows, Barry realised it was a church. He began to scuffle towards it. At worst I die in a church Barry thought. Perhaps if there was a God he would take this into consideration when determining his eternal fate.

As he reached the doors, he silently pleaded that they were open (though to whom he was pleading, he wasn’t sure). He let out a sigh of relief at the sound of the door clicking open as he rested his uninjured shoulder upon it. He stumbled into the church, trying his best to be quiet as he shut the door behind him. He limped between the pews, attempting to find a room in which he could mend himself. The large hall was lit only by candles along the walls, which left shadows dancing upon them. Barry’s eyes darted around the room, following the dark shapes. He reached the front of the hall, staring up at the statue that stood tall there. A large wooden cross with a man nailed to it, his arms and chest covered in red paint. Staring at the crown of thorns upon his head, Barry removed his hoodie with his uninjured hand. He only stared for a moment longer before averting his gaze and continuing his way through the church.

Moving to the side of the statue, he found a room filled with various boxes, all stacked upon each other. Barry rummaged through the material but groaned when he found nothing that could help him. He exited the room, looking to the back of the church to see if he had missed any other doors.

“Holy shit”

Barry flinched at the sound of a woman’s voice beside him. He looked over to the statue in which he was near only moments ago. A woman, at least half his age, stood in front of it. Her eyes were running along his body, wide in what he assumed was fear. She held a box, similar to the ones within the adjacent room. Barry stood frozen, unable to even respond to her exclamation. Her eyes stopped wondering as they reached his own. To Barry’s surprise, she smiled.

“Need some help?”.

~

The man continued to stare at you, his eyes wide and one of them bruised. Despite his tall frame and dark clothing, you felt no fear in his presence. You could see his arm was injured, as a damp spot on his hoodie was visible even under candlelight. You put the box you were holding onto the ground, moving towards the man slowly. He moved backwards ever so slightly at your movement.

“There’s a first aid kit in the back room” you explained, gesturing behind you.

The man appeared as though he would not move until he nodded. You smiled at him again, walking to the room. You could hear his footsteps behind you, heavy but slow as they followed your own. You turned on the light and pulled out a chair in which the man sat.

“It’s your arm that’s fucked up, right?” you asked, reaching up onto a shelf in order to pull down a large red box.

The man watched you intently. He nodded his head once again.

“Okay well you’re gonna need to take that off” You said, gesturing towards his hoodie. He pulled the cloth off of his body, revealing a tight grey shirt underneath. The shirt was also stained by a circle of blood around his left shoulder which was dripping steadily down his arm. “That needs to go as well” you stated. The man looked at his shoulder and the stain and then back at you before removing the piece of clothing.

Now that he was shirtless you could see the extent of the wound. It gaped, blood violently seeping from it. It was too thick to be caused from anything other than a knife. This guy must have really pissed someone off you thought.

“What’s your name?” you asked, pouring alcohol onto a clean white rag.

He watched your actions closely. His eyes never appeared to leave your form, darting from your hands to your eyes to your legs. You almost thought he wasn’t going to respond until he softly replied.

“Barry”

“Barry” you repeated, nodding your head as you placed the rag onto the man’s wound. He let out a loud hiss followed by a range of cuss words. When you had cleaned the wound you moved back to the kit, finding a needle and thread.

“What’s yours? Your name I mean” Barry asked. He voice was so quiet that you almost didn’t hear him speak.

“Y/N” you replied. You lifted the needle and thread you had prepared in front of you. “I have to sew it up, so this next part is going to really suck” you stated.

Barry nodded his head, muttering a “It’s fine”.

Barry’s jaw clenched as you stuck the needle into the skin around his wound. You both took in a deep breath, though for different reasons. You threaded the needle through, doing your best to seal the wound.

“you’re lucky I have first aid training” you joked, attempting to distract Barry from the pain of the needle.

“Oh yeah?” he was gritting his teeth and his eyes were squeezed shut. You could tell he didn’t want to speak but you were glad he did. Mostly because it meant he hadn’t passed out on you.

“No, I actually don’t. But I did a sewing class once”

You tried to avoid adding I’m also totally just improvising right now and hoping you don’t die.

“Why are you here so late? Are you a nun or something?” Barry asked, snapping you back from your thoughts.

You laughed at his question, but he continued to stare at you, waiting for an answer.

Barry groaned as you stuck the needle into his skin again. He grabbed your hip with his free hand in order to hold onto something through the pain. You allowed him to squeeze you as tightly as he needed to. You also ignored the inappropriate warmth you felt within you at his touch.

“I’m sorry” you whispered, and he released the tension in his face, looking up at you. His eyes were wide, but no longer did it appear to be because of fear. There was a hint of awe? Relief perhaps? You weren’t sure.

“Its okay” he said, shaking his head.

“I’m not a nun” you finally replied. “My brother is a priest here and he isn’t too great with organisation. I’m helping him clean up the place”.

“Is he around?” Barry asked.

“No. He’s visiting our parents over the weekend” you said, and he nodded.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you continued your work.

“I’m almost done” you said, finishing up the stitch.

When you were finished you moved away from the older man, going back to the kit to find a band aid to cover the wound. Once you had done that you walked back to the kit, tidying it up in order to place it back on the shelf. Barry took his shirt from the floor where he had previously thrown it and put it back on. He sat back down in the chair, watching you organise the red box. You heard him call your name softly and you looked up at him, smiling sweetly. “Thank you” he said, and you nodded in acknowledgement.

Before shutting the kit, you grabbed two pills. You walked over to Barry and stood in front of him, opening your palm to reveal the two small white circles. “They aren’t morphine but they’re all we’ve got” you said, and he grabbed them, placing them into his mouth and swallowing them dry. As he stared up at you, you noticed just how bruised his right eye was. A deep purple tinge stretched below it, and it appeared to be beginning to puff up. Absentmindedly, you placed your hand on Barry’s stubble covered jaw and cheek, rubbing it gently with your thumb. His breath hitched at the intimacy of your action, but he hissed when you accidently touched too close to the bruise.

His small cry of pain broke you from your trance, and you dropped your hand quickly. You weren’t sure what had possessed you to act so intimately with this stranger. However, his wide eyes and injured body made you feel protective of him. Barry’s eyes never left your face as your gaze dropped to his knees in embarrassment.

“Why would someone do this to you Barry” you asked. The words you had spoken, and the care behind them, stirred something within Barry. He lifted his large hand to your neck, gently pulling you down to meet your lips with his own. He kissed you softly, his hand making its way to rest tangled within your hair at the back of your head. You let out a hum of content and then one of discontent as he pulled out of the kiss, sitting back further into his chair.

You stood above him, lighting drumming your fingers on your lips as you looked around the room. Barry cleared his throat, scratching lightly at his stubble. “Sorry” he said “I don’t know why I did that. I didn’t mean to do that. Not that you aren’t beautiful but… that was…” he shook his head.

You nodded and smiled an apologetic smile, though you weren’t sure what you were apologising for. He seemed so lonely, you thought, as he stared up at you with those eyes again. You knew he couldn’t have been in a good place, considering the state he was in when he got here. Probably a gang war gone wrong you considered. You had heard about all the gang activity in LA before you got here, but you didn’t think you’d have it limping into your brother’s church. You also didn’t think it would be six feet tall with very broad shoulders.

“Should I get you an uber?” you asked, offering a hand to Barry so he could stand up.

He took your hand and the moment he did your body tingled. He lifted himself up but didn’t release himself from you, choosing to stare at your interlocked hands instead. He released your hands finally and you sighed, missing his warmth until he pulled you toward his chest, wrapping his arms around you. Something terrible must have happened tonight for him to act like this with a stranger you thought. However, you realised you didn’t mind what was currently happening. For some strange reason, it felt right. His arms were wrapped tight around you and you let him hold you. You rubbed his back with your hand, feeling the taught muscles underneath. He placed his face into your neck, resting his head upon your shoulder. The position must have been a strain, you thought, due to his height. However, when he nuzzled himself ever so slightly into your neck, your realised this was something you needed just as much as him.

“I just need-“ he mumbled into your neck.

“I know” You whispered, interrupting him “I know”.

He pulled away from your neck, moving to your face so he could connect your lips once again. His kisses were skilled but hesitant. Despite his hesitation, his actions drew a warmth from you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. His hands moved down your arms slowly, resting on your hips. Your hands were around his neck, playing with the hair that lay at the back of his head. He moaned into your mouth and you almost melted against him. He moved you around slowly, still kissing you, so that you could sit on the table within the room. He placed himself between your legs and you wrapped them around him, pulling him closer to you. His hands on your thighs, he kissed down your neck and you moaned, pulling at his hair. Suddenly, he froze. Leaving a final kiss on your collarbone, he brought his face back up to yours and let out a sigh. His eyes were shut, and he was breathing heavily, trying to calm himself down.

You brought a hand up to his cheek once again and he opened his eyes, staring into yours. “It’s okay” you smiled, and he nodded.

He untangled himself from you and moved to pick up his hoodie, which was still on the floor. He walked slowly towards the door, but stopped just before it, turning towards you. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again quite quickly, unsure of what to say.

“If you ever change your mind, I’m here every Sunday. My brother makes sure of that” you joked, and he smiled a tight, closed-mouth smile at you, nodding his head. You watched Barry leave the room, walking into the dim light of the church hall and finally out onto the dark LA street from which he had come.


End file.
